The Forbidden City
by Irishgryffindor
Summary: The Potter house lay in ruins. James and Lily were gone. Dead. No More. Finished. Dead. The word hit him like a hammer over and over again. Sirius knew what he had to do. Emma would be safe.
1. Prologue

Prologue

The baby's green eyes curiously gazed up at Sirius as he held her. The babe yawned grandly, stretched her feeble limbs, and settled into Sirius' arms and slept. This infant was in his charge. It was his job to find someone to protect her as soon as possible. The heavy metal kickstand that supported his beloved motorcycle gleamed in the moonlight. Sirius tucked the little one tightly in his jacket to shield her from the night's bitter wind. He mounted his motorcycle and flew off into the night.

* * *

Sirius parked the motorcycle outside a well known wizard pub on the outskirts of the Paris. He entered the dark tavern to find it quiet with a few people, despite the early morning hour, that clutched tankards and looked rather haggard. He walked over to the bar and spoke with the barkeeper. "Do you know any place I could stay?"

"We've got a few rooms for rent upstairs," the barkeeper replied with a thick, cockney accent.

"You're English?" Sirius inquired.

"Born and raised," The rather robust man stated proudly. He lightly padded his fringe of hair that encircled his bald spot.

"Say, do you know any of our kind in Paris that are worth trusting?"

"Quite a few, my friend, why?"

"My daughter and I just arrived here and we don't know anyone. I just need some friends I can trust."

"Aye, There's lots of lovely young folk who come round the tavern. There aren't many of our kind in ol' Paris—most like to stay in the countryside. But this inn is somewhat of a locale. You come to the right place mate. Jus' hang around during the day an' you can meet plenty of folk. "

"Wonderful. How about a room?"

"2B's empty. Up the stairs to the right." He held out a key which Sirius accepted.

Sirius entered the room to find it a bit grungy and not many luxuries. The baby didn't take to the room because upon settling down she proceeded to fuss for the rest of the morning.

* * *

At 11:00 he left his room and came down into the tavern to find it rather busy. Lively noise filled the air. The barkeeper's name he learned was Nigel. He chatted with Nigel about the various people that would sweep in, have a drink, talk up the weather, and leave. A woman and a man came in and caught Nigel's attention.

"Katherine and Vincent! What can I do for you?" he called to them.

"Nigel, I was curious if you had any more of that delicious wine you sold us last week. Vincent and I simply adored it!"

"Sorry, love, fresh out! You're apparently not the only Frenchmen who adored that wine. It was sold as soon as it came in." he said apologetically.

"Oh," she replied softly. "We'll check in some other time then." She and the man left.

"Lovely, young couple, they are. I jus' met them six months ago. Very reliable and nice—two good people."

Sirius roused at that information. _Why not give them a shot, eh? _he thought. "You know where I could find them?"

"I think he lef' his card with me at one time. He said he was a tinker man of sorts." Nigel rummaged through a stack of papers behind the bar. "Ah, here it is! 'Ere, you can have it." Sirius accepted the card that read VINCENT ROYAL in bold print, with an address underneath.

* * *

That afternoon Sirius set out with the baby to find the couple. He found that quiet townhouse not far from the bar, still on the outskirts of Paris. He knocked the brass knocker lightly against the door. It opened to reveal a young woman with short brown hair and cloudy blue eyes. She looked Sirius over before asking. "How may I help you?"

"I am new to this city and I need to meet some trustworthy people. The barkeeper down the road said you might be able to help me."

The woman eyed him suspiciously. "What is it exactly that you want?" A strong French accent permeated her words.

"I have a business proposition of sorts. Is your husband home?" She noticed Vincent's white business card brandished in his slender hand.

She invited him in. "May I ask your name?"

"Regulus," he lied, giving her his brother's name.

"Wait here please."

Sirius stood awkwardly in the entryway to their home. The baby stirred and began crying in hunger. "Shh—shh," Sirius cooed. "You'll be fed in no time." He rocked the baby, sending her back to sleep. A man about six feet tall with short black hair and hazel eyes appeared in the entryway. His sage green robes billowed about his ankles as he shook Sirius' hand and invited him into the dining room just to their right.

They sat down opposite each other in stiff wooden chairs. The man introduced himself as Vincent Royal, and his wife, Katherine.

"My wife tells me you have a proposition for us," his eyes brimmed with eagerness. "You see, Regulus, I dabble in all sorts of trades and hobbies magic and muggle—and lately I haven't had any luck with finding someone who shares or is willing to invest in my interests. We have fallen on hard times." He gestured to the austere walls and furniture around him.

"I am sorry for your misfortune; however, this proposition is one of a different nature." Sirius said tactfully. Vincent leaned forward slightly. "I require the services of a trustworthy couple who could take care of this child—only for a few months—three at the most. But for reasons I must keep private, she is not safe. I know you do not know me, nor may you want to, but for the sake of this innocent child, I beg your help." The Royals did not look as if that was the proposition they wanted to hear. "You will be well paid, if it is any consolation."

Their disposition changed. "How long again?" Vincent asked.

"Hopefully only two months."

"Excuse us for a moment, will you?" The couple stepped out into the hall. Sirius could still hear what they were saying.

"We could do this Katherine! We _need_ the money. It's only for two months."

"Vincent, that man is a complete stranger! He could be a convict for all we know!"

Sirius snorted to himself, thinking, _A convict! The very idea—ha!_

"It's just a little baby, Katherine! How hard could it be?"

"What if he never comes back?" she retorted. "What if we never see that man again? I thought we agreed that we didn't want children. They're lovely as babies but then they grow up! Besides, we can't afford it."

"He said he'd pay us. And I trust him. Look at him—he's desperate!"

Katherine walked back into the room scowling. "How much?" she demanded.

Sirius reached into his jacket and pulled out a heavy leather pouch. I chinked loudly when he set I on the table. "300 galleons." Katherine looked as if she had just swallowed her tongue. "Is that fair to you?"

It seemed to take a while for Vincent to find his voice. "Two months you say?"

"You may do with the money what you will, but I ask that you spend a fraction on the baby and her needs."

"But of course," Katherine strode toward him. Sirius noted that she added a touch of sweetness in her voice. Katherine reached for the infant. Sirius cautiously laid the baby in her arms. She then stepped back to stand by her husband again.

"I will return in two months if all goes well, if not, I'll send word." Vincent Royal nodded and proffered a hand which Sirius shook, sealing the deal. They opened the front door and Sirius strolled down the front walk confident in his choice of safe keepers.

"Regulus!" Katherine called. It took Sirius a second to realize that she was calling him. "What's her name?"

He looked back at the couple standing side by side with the baby wrapped securely in Katherine's arms.

"Emma."

* * *

Sirius returned to the tavern positively exhausted and feeling unnaturally heavy. It was still light outside when Sirius collapsed into bed. After all, he had ridden through the night with the baby and arrived in the wee hours of the morning.

* * *

When Sirius woke it was dark. The clock on the wall read 6:30 am. He had to leave. He left money for the room on the nightstand and exited the tavern. His motorcycle waited expectantly. Sirius mounted it and with a tap of his wand it sputtered to life.

The sun had risen two hours ago and Sirius was feeling a bit excited to be going back so early. He figured he wouldn't see England for a week, but one day later he was flying out of France! There was a rolling expanse of hills that gave way to a flat plain, which revealed to be full of muggles.

_ Oh bother_, he thought.

Dismay filled Sirius as he landed quickly. Bumping uncomfortably down the country dirt road, Sirius scowled when a large banner blocked his path. _Le festival de Bretagne _was scrawled out in large blue letters. _Bretagne!_ Sirius thought. _I thought I had long been out of Bretagne!_ He was under the impression that he was going the straightest course as possible but apparently that wasn't the case. A fiercely yellow sign was posted next the banner: it read DETOUR: 26 miles. His scowl deepened. He would have to stay on the ground—the risk of being seen was too great. Fifteen miles down the road he got caught behind a truck that was traveling at the breakneck pace of a snail. And naturally hills were on both sides of the road preventing Sirius from passing on either side.

The light was beginning to fade when Sirius reached the shores of the English Channel. He flew down a cliff to a deserted beach. Yet again, Sirius found his energy utterly spent from another day of travel and his limbs sore and numb from riding on a dirt ride most of the way. He crawled under an overhang, far from the water's edge, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

* * *

Freezing saltwater rudely woke Sirius. The tide was coming in rapidly. It was impossible to tell the time of day. Sirius assumed it was still morning. Dark, ominous clouds loomed overhead, shielding the sun's warm glow. Sirius hastily got on his bike and flew to the top of the cliff. This new vantage point allowed him to gaze over the irate, churning waters. Then the rain began to pound the earth with a driving fury. Sirius took shelter under a nearby tree to wait out the storm. He couldn't possibly fly through this. He had no choice but to sit and wait out the storm.

Night fell. Sirius welcomed the darkness, for it seemed to bring an end to the storm. He mounted his bike once more and journeyed through the sky, humming a cheerful tune. He was still in high spirits, despite the several delays, to be going home and to see James and Lily.

* * *

A cry of anguish tore itself from Sirius' mouth. Denial coursed through him. No—it _couldn't_ have happened! He had only been gone for two days. TWO DAYS! Godric's Hollow was in a state of panic. Two hours ago, Voldemort had come—fought James and murdered him and then Lily, who died protecting Harry. The Potter house lay in ruins. James and Lily were gone. Dead. No more. Finished. _Dead. _The word hit him like a hammer over and over again. Tears burned defiantly in his eyes. It was him. _Voldemort._ Sirius knew it. He hadn't been quick enough.

_ James. _

_ Prongs._

_ Dead. _

_ His best friend._

_ Lily. _

_ Dear, sweet Lily._

_ Murdered. _

The thoughts ran through his mind but he still couldn't accept it. _And Harry…_ He felt sick. He stumbled over to a tree in the front of the house and retched. He screamed and kept screaming. He cursed the heavens and damned everyone around him to hell. Still he couldn't understand how Voldemort knew where the Potters were. Only he knew. Only he, Dumbledore and…_Pettigrew. _Just the thought of him was disgusting. It had to have been him. Their secret keeper—he was the only one who could say where they lived. _The damn weasel._ Sirius was never comfortable with letting Peter be the secret keeper. He had started to distrust him since they left school. He always lurked in the shadows and disappeared for long amounts of time without a trace. However, Sirius had gone against his instincts. He forced himself to realize that he would be too obvious a choice. Hatred pulsed through his body.

A dark, giant figure moved inside the house. Sirius raised his wand prepared to kill. Hagrid came into view covered in brick dust. Sirius lowered his wand and his posture faltered. In Hagrid's arms was a miniature bundle. _No. It could not be Harry! How could he have survived?!_ More tears clouded Sirius' vision. It was Harry. The infant was alive with nothing but a deep cut on his forehead in the shape of a lightening bolt. "How?" Sirius managed to croak hoarsely.

Hagrid hung his head. "Pettigrew…he-he betrayed them." Tears glistened in Hagrid's scraggly beard. This confirmation of Sirius' thought made his blood boil. He felt sick again but suppressed his want to vomit.

"But," his throat clogged with rage and hurt, "how did Harry survive? If James and Lily…" he couldn't bring himself to say it.

"I don't fully understand it myself Sirius. But Harry somehow counteracted the spell and we believe that Voldemort is either powerless or dead." Sirius couldn't digest the information. He stared blankly towards the house, weeping.

Abruptly he said, "I must attend to something immediately. Harry will be safe with you for now." Sirius rolled his bike to Hagrid. "Take this. I don't need it anymore."

Hagrid put his bulky hand on Sirius' shoulders. "I don't think you're fit to do anything, lad. Go home."

"I have to go." Sirius took one last look at the house and his sadness transformed quickly to anger, then to revenge. With Peter's flat in mind, Sirius apparated and the air echoed with a faint pop.

* * *

A/N: The rest as we know is Harry Potter history. Sirius was accused of murdering Pettigrew, which landed him in Azkaban for 13 years. He never returned to France. The next chapter will pick up 16 years later. Hope you enjoyed. Please review. 


	2. The Hogwarts Express

Disclaimer/ Announcement: Hello readers. This was the very first fic I wrote that I first started writing in the fall of 2004. I have gone through an extensive phase of reading the past things I wrote and being rather disgusted with it. As a result, I have taken it off, planned the ending (finally), edited the entire thing (that I have written-- the first 9 chapters), and republished with hope that it will have a new life with a fresh audience. Please read and review. I will post about a chapter or day or more depending on the response or until I get to the point where I'll be freshly writing them. Sit back and enjoy the Forbidden City.

Ps. I would like to also make it known that this fic was written before the sixth book so I am trying to keep out sixth book elements, so if anything is contradictory set your mind back to the fifth book. There will also be various original characters.

**Ch. 1 The Hogwarts Express**

"Hurry up! Hurry up!" cried Mrs. Weasley somewhat anxiously. "Oh hurry up or we'll be late…again!"

"Relax Mum we'll get there" said Ron.

They nearly flew out of the car to get to Platform 9 ¾. Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Hermione quickly gave their luggage to the luggage master and boarded the train. They were going to be in their 6th year and Ginny in 5th. The four chatted excitedly as the train began puling out of the station and they waved their final goodbyes out the window. As the station was out of sight they settled down for the long ride back to Hogwarts. Harry was anxious about what this year would be like, but he was happy to be going back—home. There was a knock on the compartment door and Ron slid it open.

"Er, do you think I could, sit in here with you? Everywhere else is full." The owner of the voice was a dark-haired girl with a slight French accent.

"Take a seat," said Hermione. The girl began lifting her trunk to put it in the overhead compartment and Harry jumped up to help her. They shoved it with the rest of the trunks, and Hermione looked at her quizzically. "Are you new? I haven't seen you around before."

"Yes," she said as she seated herself next to Ginny. "My parents and I just moved here on, er,_ business_. I attended Beaxbutons in France."

"Interesting, well by all means please forgive us for not introducing ourselves. I'm Hermione Granger."

"Hi, Ron Weasley" he said giving a little wave.

"Ginny Weasley"

As they introduced themselves, the girl gave a gasp. "I know who you are!" she said in surprise mouth open and eyes wide "You're Ha-Harry Potter."

"Yeah I know," he said snapped sarcastically.

"Sorry," she said a little taken aback, shifting uncomfortably.

"Every year all the first years gasp and goggle at me whenever they see me, and year after year it gets really, really old and annoying. Don't take it personally."

"Oh," she replied.

"By the way, what's your name?" said Hermione

"Emma Royal."

"Nice to meet you Emma," said Hermione, extending her hand.

"So, what year will you be in?" asked Emma. She graciously shook Hermione's hand.

"They are all going to be in 6th year and I will be in 5th." Ginny said

Emma was a little surprised that Ginny spoke for she had been so quiet. "Me too," said Emma, and Ginny looked hopeful, "I mean in 6th, sorry Ginny."

Then they began to talk for what seemed like hours and slowly but surely started to become friends with Emma on the train. She was just glad to have so many friends in such a short time. After a while, Harry and Ron began a game of wizard's Chess and Hermione and Ginny started pouring over the newest copy of Witch Weekly. Emma just gazed at the passing countryside through the window. Their compartment door slid open.

"Anything off the trolley dears?" the plump witch questioned.

"Oh yes, thank you Ruthie," said Hermione, getting some pumpkin patsies. The others got what they wanted and sat to devour their orders.

"And you dear?" she said, nodding to Emma

"I'm alright," she smiled at the witch and caught sight of a Daily prophet headline, sticking out on the second shelf of the cart. "Actually, could I have that copy of the Daily Prophet?"

"Why of course dear, I won't be needing it," the trolley witch gave her the paper, and hummed herself away to the next compartment.

Emma rummaged through her pockets and found the small scrap of paper that her time for her meeting with the Hogwarts headmaster. From the outside Emma looked happy and excited, but down deep she was nervous. She was nervous about her meeting with the headmaster and what fate had in store for her.

She began to scan the front of the paper and found the article she'd noticed. Lord Voldemort was seen outside the village of Orcshire, an abandoned wizard community. _Orcshire_… she thought to herself. _I know I've heard that name somewhere, I know it. _She racked her brain for details, and remembered overhearing her father saying something about "important place" and "Orcshire". Her curiosity was overwhelming. If her father knew of it then it couldn't be good.

"Er, Hermione, is there a library or a reference room on this train? On the Beaxbutons Way (the name of the train) we had a small library," said Emma.

"Not that I know of, so probably not," said Ron

"For your information Ronald Weasley she was asking_ me_ not you," Hermione said sharply, "and we do have something like a library but not exactly."

"Geez, touchy, touchy," Ron muttered under his breath.

"Here follow me, Emma." Hermione exited the compartment and started towards the back of the train. "Ugh little Ronny thinks he's knows everything. Sometimes he can _really_ get on my nerves. Here we are," she knocked on a compartment door.

"So, what are you looking for?" asked Hermione.

"Just curious about something," said Emma

"Just a minute," called a voice from inside. They could hear some ruffling from inside the compartment. "Okay you can come in now,"

Hermione slid the door open. "Hello Melanie."

"Hello Hermione," said Melanie. "How can I help you?"

"Well, first of all," started Hermione, "Emma, Melanie, Melanie, Emma," she said nodding to each of them.

"Nice to meet you Emma," said Melanie

"Anyway, Emma was looking for a library of sorts, so I brought her to you."

"Oh, well, do come in," said Melanie as she ushered them in.

Emma looked around at about a thousand books magically stacked up everywhere. It was a compartment that was slightly bigger than the standard ones.

Hermione started to exit when she turned around and stopped. "Do you think you know your way back?" Emma nodded in reply, and Hermione left.

"Bye Hermione!" Melanie called. "Feel free to look around as much as you like. There is a little attached room in here," she pointed to a door on the far side," it's where I work. Dumbledore had it put in for me after constant begging. See, I love books. So before, I would bring all the books I owned and stack them up in my compartment so no one could sit down in it. So he gave me this compartment and added a tiny room in the corner so I could work on the book I'm writing. I'll leave you to it!"

Emma combed through the stacks of books for a book that might help her. She had only one book that looked semi-useful, and it was called _Ancient Cities of the Dark Arts. _It was the only one that had anything to do with a city. The Beaxbutons Way had a very efficient library, but this would do. She sat down at a small, round table, and began to flip through the book till she found a section on Orcshire.

_The Forbidden City_

_Orcshire is one of the oldest dark arts cities there is. It was established by Caleb Sandbornian in 1563.It was originally a suburbia city with talk of building a school there. But in 1683 it was overthrown by Salazar Slytherin IV, and the town became the home to the most practicing of the dark arts in that age. Later, it was governed by Salazar Slytherin IV in 1689. In the early 1900's it was abandoned when a raid of Aurors came through. It has since been a shabby, old ghost town, but some people say there is great evil that remains there and always will. For there are many Dark Arts things that survive in the city. Legend says that you can see the ghost of old Salazar himself waiting for someone to come and make the city alive again.

* * *

_

Emma stopped reading. She marked the page and closed the book. _This is bad_, she thought. _I knew father was up to something...Orcshire is in England! Is this the 'business' he was talking about? _She was troubled by that thought and decided to take her mind off of it. She laid her head down and closed her eyes.

* * *

"_What are you doing here get out! GET OUT! NOW!" she suddenly felt a hand hit her cheek. She ran outside slamming the door behind her, and her cheek burning like fire. She ran and ran till she couldn't breathe, clutching her side, she sat down underneath a large mossy tree and cried. She pulled out her wand conjured a tissue. 'I hate him, I hate him. I wish he would die', she thought. She had just had another fight with...him, her father. They had more and more fights recently, so she started to come here after every fight. But this one was different; it was far worse than any other fight. He had hit her, hit her! His only child! They had been talking about the move and he blew up in her face. She needed something more than this though, she needed to fly. She ran to their backyard shed and grabbed her broom. She mounted it and remembered him coming out the back door._

"_Get back here you little bitch!" he screamed._

_She ignored him and flew of above the trees. Then suddenly behind her another broom appeared… with her father. She went as fast as the broom could go, but it was old and on a newer broom he caught up quickly. He reached out and grabbed a handful of hair and pulled. She screamed from the pain._

"_Let go of me! LET GO!" Emma screamed._

_It was no use he only held it tighter and pulled harder and she began to lose her balance. She slipped off the broom and let herself fall only to be stopped three feet from the ground by one of her father's spells. He flew down and grabbed her, pulling her onto his broom. He touched down in their backyard and picked her up through the squirming and made his way toward the wooden doors that lead to the cellar.

* * *

_

Emma woke up in a cold sweat wishing to forget her dream. All of the memories of that cellar were too horrible to even imagine. She just wanted to forget them, forget them all. She began to start back to their compartment. When she got there Hermione had a worried look on her face.

"You're back! Finally, I was just about to come and get you. You've been gone for nearly two hours!" Hermione cried.

"Forgive me, I was reading and sort of fell asleep," Emma said.

"Well that explains it. You should go and change into your robes we're nearly there. The bathroom is down at the end of the hall." said Hermione.

"Thanks," Emma left to change.

Emma rummaged through her pockets, as she was changing, and found the small scrap of paper that had her time for her meeting with the Hogwarts headmaster; a new student requirement. To any one else Emma would appear happy and excited, but down deep she was nervous. She was nervous about her meeting with the new headmaster and what fate had in store for her.

* * *

The train pulled to a creaking stop and the students all filed out. There was a rather large man with a huge brown beard who was calling the first years to him. Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Ginny cut through the crowd to get to him.

"Hello Hagrid!" Harry said cheerfully.

"Ello Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and who's this?" said Hagrid nodding to all of them.

"Emma Royal. She transferred from Beaxbutons," said Harry.

"Well then, nice to meet ya Emma. Name's Rubeus Hagrid, but you can call me Hagrid,"

"Nice to meet you Mr. Hagrid," said Emma

"Oh no, not any of that mister business, oh no, not for me. Just Hagrid."

"Okay, sorry 'just' Hagrid," she said smiling.

"Now off with ya! Got to catch you a carriage," Hagrid waved them off.

"Bye Hagrid!" Hermione called, waving as he descended the path towards the lake, trailed by first years.

They walked to the edge of the lake and got inside one of the horseless carriages. Emma started to climb in when she saw some thing a little disturbing.

"Wait a minute, why is Harry petting thin air?" asked Emma looking at him curiously.

"He's not petting thin air, get in and I'll explain," said Hermione. "The animals that pull these carriages are called thestrals. You can only see them if you have witnessed death."

"How do you know? Have you seen them?" asked Emma.

"Actually, no I haven't. But he has," she said nodding to Harry when he climbed into the carriage.

"Oh."

"But I have ridden on one before and let me tell you, for someone who _hates_ flying its bad enough. But when you can't see what you're riding on…" she shivered.

"Ahh, you can ride them?" asked Emma.

"Yes, unfortunately they have wings," said Hermione.

"How fun," Emma said.

"Very," Hermione said sarcastically.

They rode to the castle in silence for they all were tired and just didn't talk. Emma closed her eyes and let her thoughts take control over her. But she was careful, careful to not fall asleep…again.

* * *


	3. The Meeting, Ghosts, and Peeves

A/N: In the second edition of this fic, I will replace my old chapter disclaimers with announcements, quotes, or other tid-bits I think you should know or pay attention to. Three years ago this song tormented my brain by playing itself over and over again in my head, so I will keep it here in memory of that time.

"Close your eyes and surrender to a strange new world. Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before. Close your eyes let your spirit start to soar and you'll live as you have never lived before." -Music of the Night, the Phantom of the Opera.

**Ch. 2 The Meeting, Ghosts, and Peeves**

Emma walked swiftly up the great stone steps pausing to look at her directions to the headmaster's office, and careful to skip the trick steps she had been warned about. She thought to herself what a silly thing it was to have trick steps, ridiculous really. Her thoughts skipped to what her father had said to her before she boarded the train. "Remember we moved here on _business only_, got it?" She remembered how he looked at her like he could see straight through her and into her soul. His gaze was always cold and heartless, as if the fire within his eyes was replaced by ice. She didn't really feel any attachment to her parents, for she had always been treated like a stranger by them for all her life. She kept seeing her father's eyes in her mind staring at her just staring with no emotion; empty. However her thoughts were quickly shattered by a rather large water balloon that was dropped suddenly and squarely on her head.

"What the?" she said, looking around for the culprit.

She looked up to find a little man floating a few feet above her head. He looked like he was choking, but he was laughing. _Ughh!_ she thought to her self, W_hat a welcoming gift! I feel loved. How I would like to ring his little neck_. She stopped at the foot of a gigantic stone gargoyle.

Emma reached in her pocket for another wisp of paper McGonagall had given her. "Acid Pop!" she cried and stepped onto the staircase that revealed itself and began spiraling upwards. She raised her fist to knock when a voice from within echoed "Enter." She cautiously opened the door and went in, leaving a little puddle behind her, on the top step.

"Ah, you must have had an unfortunate encounter with Peeves," the headmaster said, noticing her wet clothes.

"Peeves?" inquired Emma.

"The poltergeist—that little man who floats in the air playing tricks on students—He is on the bad side of everything in the castle that breathes freely, but never mind him; you're not the first and unfortunately won't be the last! I assume your journey here was mostly pleasant."

She nodded.

"Well let's get down to business. This, Miss Royal, is the Sorting hat," he said as he pulled the freshly used hat off a dusty shelf. He was about to place the sorting hat on her head but stopped. "You know we should get you dried off first."

Dumbledore muttered a spell pointing to Emma, and her robes were dry instantly. He placed the hat on her head and it began talking, which made Emma jump.

"From Beaxbutons I see, nice place, well I've never been there personally, but merely read about it in Wizard Travel Guides." the hat said

"You can read?" asked Emma shocked.

"Well, minds, but that is besides the point," the hat explained.

Dumbledore cleared his throat "Don't you think you better hurry up?"

"Yes, yes if you must be so pushy. Well then, you have a most complicated mind if I must say. Filled with anger, hate, love, wit, courage, yes, much courage. My, my, what's this? Well you certainly are a rebel." said the hat.

"Er, thanks," replied Emma quietly.

"Well there are four houses and you must go somewhere. I think I shall place you in SLYTHERIN!" the hat yelled

"You know I may be a bit old but I am quite sure I'm not deaf. I have excellent hearing, you know. Runs in my family, mother's side," said Dumbledore.

"Oh, er, okay," Emma said, unsure of what to think.

"Moving on," Dumbledore announced placing the hat back on the shelf. "Now that's taken care of, I'll be happy to answer any questions you might have."

"Thank you, Professor," said Emma. "I don't really know my way around here so I was wondering if you had a map or something."

"No, actually I don't, but your prefect will help you. One moment, I'll contact him so you may meet him," said Dumbledore "Fiona," he said addressing one of the portraits on the wall, "could you be a dear and fetch young Mr. Malfoy for me?"

"Anything for you, Dumbledore," the painting replied adoringly, exiting the frame.

"I was informed you met fellow students in your year on the train," stated Dumbledore.

"I did," said Emma, "Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and Harry Potter."

"Ahh," he said nodding, looking a bit concerned.

There was a knock on the door and a pale, blond-headed boy came in.

"You sent for me professor?" asked the boy.

"Ah yes, Mr. Malfoy, come in won't you. Mr. Malfoy I'd like you to meet Emma Royal. She's just moved here from France, where she attended Beaxbutons. Now Mr. Malfoy if you would so kindly show Miss Royal around and help her get to her classes, etcetera. Now Miss Royal, I'm sure you had some more questions."

"Yes, er, prof--" she was cut off by a greasy-haired man who burst into the room.

"Headmaster, its Peeves. He's causing absolute mayhem in the Great Hall.' said the man.

"Miss Royal, Mr. Malfoy I am sorry I must leave you. We will continue this later," he said, hurrying out of the office followed by the greasy-haired man.

Draco and Emma followed them out and watched them go down to the great hall. Draco and Emma, however, stayed on that floor, leaning over the railing observing what was happening below. It was absolutely _mad_. Peeves had somehow gotten a hold of a wand and was making the water from the lake fly through a large window, in the air, above the students and making it rain down upon them. The Great hall was filled with nearly two feet of water and screaming, soaking wet students.

"Well," Draco said calmly, "never seen him do that before. Follow me, we need to find the Bloody Baron."

Emma looked at him in wonderment. _How could he be so calm? _"The who?' asked Emma.

"The Bloody Baron," Draco replied, "I'll explain later. Come on!" He took off running up flights of steps, with Emma behind him.

"Where are we going?" Emma yelled at him, as they ran up the steps which eventually began to spiral as they reached the towers.

"Just follow me," he called back sternly. They came out on the roof of the school. The roof was a large, flat square with one door (the one they'd just come out) and grainy textured tiles for the floor.

"Wow," Emma said breathless, looking over the edge at the grounds. "Now you want to tell me why we are here?"

Draco nodded in reply and caught his breath, "The Bloody Baron is a ghost. It is the only person, er, spirit that Peeves will listen too. He does everything the Bloody Baron says."

"Oh," said Emma.

"They should be getting back around now," murmured Draco, glancing at his watch. "We are on the roof because every year after the sorting, the ghosts, well the headless ones, go on a head hunt. It's a ghost thing apparently. But after it they have a meeting on the roof every time."

"Why do you know all this?" asked Emma jokingly.

"Because I do," Draco said acting superior. Emma just rolled her eyes.

Draco began to study Emma a bit. She was looking over the edge of the roof into the night. She was very pretty now that he looked at her; far better than that pug, Pansy. _Lord Pansy was ugly!_ he thought. She looked over at him and he smiled, looking into her eyes. They were a strangely familiar green. A chill came over him and he shook it off.

"Are you alright?" Emma asked precariously.

"Yeah, it's just cold up here." he assured her. In the distance a small thin line of gray could be seen against the trees. "That should be them," said Draco. It was like a cold, gray wave that swallowed Emma and Draco whole. Emma found Draco's hand and clung fast.

"Are _you _okay?" Draco shouted over the howling, moaning, and laughing, freeing his hand.

"Yeah," replied Emma "I think." The ghosts settled down and stared at the pale, blond boy.

"What do you want?" asked a ghost dressed like a war general.

"I was wondering if you could tell me where I could find the Bloody Baron," Draco said.

"What ever for?" asked a mail-clad ghost.

"Aye, why you want 'im for?" asked a sailor ghost.

"Twas, not talking to you Henry," said the war general ghost. "Nor you, Gwain, so shut up." They started to back off when they heard the war general ghost grumble, "Filthy pirate", under his breath.

"That's the last time you boss us around, Harold," said Henry addressing the war-general ghost.

"Aye!" cried Gwain.

Henry unsheathed his sword and challenged Harold. They were about to engage in a full-fledged sword fight when Gwain snuck up behind Harold, and grabbed his head. It came clear off, revealing a very old, bloody, stump, causing Emma to feel a bit queasy. The ghosts began a game tossing Harold's head back and forth. Meanwhile a headless ghost body fumbled around with flailing arms.

"Stop it! Give it back! This is the third time this week!" Harold's head cried.

"Ahem," Draco cleared his throat, "er, the Bloody Baron?"

"Aye, the Baron 'imself should be on the…" the ghost trailed off, "Aye! I remember 'e should be on the fourth floor, roamin' the halls."

"Thanks, Gwain," called Draco dragging Emma down the steps.

They went down three flights of steps when the rails on the stairwell retracted, and the staircase began to shudder.

"Hold on!" yelled Draco.

The staircase jerked back and forth unable to make up its mind on where to move. While all this lovely excitement was going on Emma looked below and examined what Peeves had done. The Great hall was filled with at least four feet of water. Suddenly, the staircase stopped moving leaving one end of the staircase in midair.

"Heh," said Draco, "well this is a minor setback. Peeves has probably done something to it."

While Draco was planning their plan Emma felt a drip of water on the back of her neck. Emma slowly looked up to find that a big river of water was rushing out of a nearby window. Emma braced herself for impact. She was swept up by the current and began to float down the steps.

"Draco," she screamed.

He grabbed onto a column and grabbed Emma's hand. "Fourth floor," he said jerking his head in direction of a hall. They got to their feet and began walking down the hall. The water continued on its downward cascade to the Great Hall behind them. "This wasn't exactly my plan, but it will work. Stupid, Peeves. The idiot messed up my hair; you don't have a mirror, do you?" Draco asked.

"Sorry," she shrugged_. How could he think about his hair at a time like this?_ _Oh well_, she thought to herself.

"Start looking in classrooms!" Draco commanded. "You take this side. I'll take this side."

"Okay," she said.

She opened the first door. It was a very strange classroom. Pillows and feathers were everywhere. No ghosts in here she thought. She moved on to the next door. She opened it and was immediately toppled to the floor, by brooms and mops, and other cleaning supplies.

"Definitely not in here," said Emma stuffing the cleaning stuff back into the closet.

She moved on down the hall, past three doors, with no Bloody Baron. She got to the next to the last door on the hall, but it was locked.

"Er, Draco, could you come over here for a second?" asked Emma.

"Sure," said Draco. "He's not down this side."

"And I've checked all the doors but this one." said Emma. "It won't open up to any spell either."

"Stand back," he said pushing Emma out of the way. He backed up and stopped, looking at the door with a determined look in his eye. He charged at the door, when suddenly it opened. Draco went through the Bloody Baron and crashed somewhere in the room.

"If you wanted me all you had to do was knock," the Bloody Baron said with a smirk.

Draco stumbled out of the room dusting himself off.

"Oh me, were you in there?" the ghost asked with the same smirk." Dreadful place, dear me, why were you in there? Aren't we civilized people anymore. Always barging in, never knocking."

The ghost trailed off mumbling to himself. Draco looked like he could murder the Bloody Baron….again. The ghost reached the end of the hall and floated above the water.

"Tra, la, la, la, fiddle dee. What has Peevesy done to me?" sang the Bloody Baron to himself.

"Well?" Draco put urgently.

"Well what?" snapped the Bloody Baron.

"Are you going to do anything? Or are you just going to let the school fall apart and go crazy?" Draco asked.

"Well if it's _so_ important to you, I guess I could make some schedule adjustments." The ghost said dramatically.

Draco scoffed. The Bloody Baron floated down the steps to a contemporary beat. When he reached the bottom, most of the students were gathered underneath a large umbrella (which Peeves was trying to poke holes through) Dumbledore had conjured till the rain stopped. One student, however, was fighting aimlessly at Peeves.

"Hey! Hey you! Gimme my wand!" cried a red-headed boy jumping up and down. "Give it back, or, or I'll…."

"You'll what, Weaselbee?" Peeves said sticking out his tongue.

Emma reached the bottom of the steps and watching as the Bloody Baron began to bargin with Peeves.

"Ron!" Emma said realizing who the boy was.

"Emma! Stupid, little, bloody poltergeist stole my wand!"

"It's okay. We brought help," she said pointing to the Bloody Baron.

"We?" Ron asked.

Draco stepped out from behind Emma. "Fine evening, Weaselbee, is it?" said Draco smartly.

"Just peachy, snotbrain," said Ron.

Peeves gave in and dropped the wand on Ron's head as he floated off. The rain stopped and the newly formed waterfall on the stairs eventually ran off.

"Ahem," said Dumbledore clearing his throat. "I do believe that we have had enough excitement for one evening. Off to bed with you and we'll solve this in the morning."

The students grumbled and waded to their common rooms or up the steps. Pansy and a group of girls complained on how bad their night had been utterly ruined.

Emma followed Draco to their common room towards the dungeons. Emma looked up and watched all the tired, wet students tramp to their rooms.

"This way," Draco said tugging on her arm. "Try not to daydream and you might learn these halls, okay?"

"Right," Emma said a little dazed.

"Here we are," he said stopping at a dead-end. "Oh yeah, the password is—Salazar!" he shouted at the stone wall. Emma watched the door form in front of her. "Your dormitory is that way," he said pointing. "When you come down for breakfast, bring your schedule and I'll show you around. Goodnight!" Draco said walking to his dormitory.

Emma went to her dormitory and was greeted by a very loud wail.

"Why me?" Pansy sobbed.

"It's not that bad, Pansy, really" Millicent Bulstrode said trying to calm her friend.

"It's not that bad." Blaine said very annoyed.

"Did you hear what he called me?" Pansy shrieked.

"I believe he said that you looked like a pug in a leotard," said Blaine, matter- of- factly.

"I know what he called me," Pansy said throwing a pillow at her. She saw Emma and asked "Who are you?"

"Er, Emma Royal."

"Oh, well I'm Pansy Parkinson, and these two don't matter." She said brushing them away.

"Blaine Rossum," she said shaking Emma's hand. "And that's Millicent Bulstrode. She does everything Pansy says," she whispered.

"Your bed is over there," Pansy pointed.

She found her uniform and her schedule and laid them out. Then finally she changed into her nightgown, and gratefully climbed into bed and went to sleep.


	4. Strange and Encounters with Trelawney

A/N: These first few chapters are not overly thrilling but coded with important details. But I promise in the next chapter things will pick up the pace and some things will make you go 'aww'. Hah! So enjoy this chapter, review if you'd like to make my day.

**Strange Encounters with Trelawney**

"Are you ready? Got your schedule?" asked Draco early that morning.

"Right here," she said holding up the parchment.

"Let's see," he said looking at the schedule, "Divination, well that's a long walk from here. It's in the north tower."

They entered the great hall and found that most of the water had been cleaned out and some house elves where vanishing little puddles and waxing the floor. Sunlight streamed through the windows, filling the hall with sunlight and warmth.

"Wow," Emma said to herself, marveling the Great Hall.

They climbed up several flights of steps before reaching the 7th floor. Suddenly, Draco thrust his arm in front of her, blocking her path. She looked around and gasped. A great expanse of the floor was littered with a sea of bright, yellow sleeping bags complete with sleeping people.

"Can I help you?" asked Justin Flinn- Fletchy, the Hufflepuff prefect, as he approached.

"What happened?" asked Emma.

"Well," started Justin, "our common room was flooded by the waterfall on the stairs. Dumbledore said we should stay here till it has been dried and cleaned."

"We were on our way to the North Tower," said Emma.

"Go on through. There's a clear path over there by the rail," Justin pointed. Draco and Emma slowly began to navigate around sleeping children.

"Emma!" the loud call forced a few people sit up, groan and shift noisily, then go back to sleep. Emma found Melanie, her 7th year friend she met on the train, smiling and waving ate her. Piles of books were stacked on her sleeping bag making it look oddly lumpy.

"Hi Melanie," said Emma weaving through the crowd of sleeping bags.

"I managed to salvage them," she gestured to the books, "I'm afraid that Herman didn't make it.

"Who?"

She held up a soggy copy of Moby Dick. "I'm afraid," she sighed, "I can't save it."

"I'm sorry."

"We have to be going now," Draco stated impatiently.

Emma nodded, said goodbyes to Melanie, and followed Draco. They ascended the spiral staircase of the North Tower and up the stepladder to Professor Trelawney's room. It took a moment for Emma to get her bearings in the dimly lit attic they called a classroom.

"Welcome, children of magic," Professor Trelawney whispered in a very mystified tone.

"Er, hi," replied Draco. "Professor, this is Emma Royal. She just transferred, from Beaxbutons. I was just—"

"I know who she is and from whence she came. Come closer so I may get a good look at you, my dear," Trelawney interrupted. Emma stepped forward and faced the bizarre, bug-eyed teacher. Trelawney looked at her face then reached for Emma's hand, exposing her palm. "May I read it?" she asked blinking her bulbous eyes. Emma consented warily. The heavily clothed woman guided her over to a chair out of earshot of Draco. "Ahh, you are a keeper of a dark secret— much like Mr. Malfoy, son of darkness. Your purpose is great indeed and unfulfilled, yet, you do not know your destiny or rather it was lost to you long ago," she stopped speaking and gazed pointedly out the window.

Perturbed, Emma stood and walked over to the window and looked out and below. She saw Harry, Ron, and two redheaded twins playing Quidditch. Emma suddenly felt faint; the strong perfume of the blistering room was making her feel woozy. "Let's go," Emma said shakily. They went down the stepladder when Draco stopped her.

"Are you alright?" he asked. "You're awfully pale."

"Perfect," Emma said struggling to smile.

"Next class is charms. That's on the fourth floor. Let's go." They continued to walk all over the school following her schedule. Emma spent most of that time silent and lost in her own thoughts.

"Lunch time," Draco announced. "The Slytherin table is on the far side." He pointed then walked off to sit with his friends.

Emma spotted Hermione waving her over to the Gryffindor table. "Hi Emma," said Hermione, "How's your schedule?"

"So you in Slytherin then," Harry cut in dryly, nodding towards the silver serpent patch that had been firmly stitched on to her robe.

"Yes I am," Emma said proudly. Draco had shown her the trophy room, and she noticed that Slytherin and Gryffindor had the most; however, Slytherin had more.

"That doesn't matter," Hermione said, nudging Harry, "At least your table is close to us. Sit behind us so we can talk."

Blaine appeared beside Emma and tapped her on the shoulder. "Hey, sorry to interrupt this little meeting but the girls want to meet you," she pointed to a group of waving Slytherin girls.

"Er, do you mind Hermione? I should get to know them; after all, they are my roommates." Blaine rushed Emma off before Hermione could answer.

—_Meanwhile at the Gryffindor table—_

"Who is she?" Fred asked Hermione.

"Dying to meet her," said George.

"Her name is Emma Royal. She's from France."

"Love the French," George muttered, sipping his pumpkin juice.

"Wait—aren't you two supposed to be graduated?" Hermione asked.

The twins looked at each other and smiled. "Well, after that stunt last year," Fred said.

"You know, walkin' out and all."

"Mum begged us to go back and finish our schooling. Plus we have to train our successors properly," Fred explained.

"We know no one could fill our shoes because we're the best, but we're going to have to teach somebody all we know," said George.

"To be proper trouble makers," put Fred.

"So here we are," said George. "Back…again."

"Oh," Hermione replied softly.

—_Meanwhile back at the Slytherin Table—_

"I'm Anna. Anna Richardson," said one of the girls.

"Eva Sullivan," she introduced herself, shaking Emma's hand.

After Emma recited her story for the millionth time for the girls, and answered all of Pansy's pesky questions there wasn't much conversation. The rest of the day passed without event.

_(Dinner)_

As the dessert course was being served a hush feel over the Great Hall as Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.

"All classes will begin tomorrow with no exceptions," He said ignoring the widespread groans throughout the hall. "I would like to introduce the new Defense against the Darks arts teacher. Professor Tod Vroslm Romel." The hall quickly quieted again. The student body was curiously eyed the new teacher. Almost everyone in the hall considered the job cursed because no one ever lasted longer than a year. Dumbledore sat down and the hall was buzzing with new talk. The food eventually vanished and the student began to meander back to their common rooms.

Blaine and Emma headed for the common room while Blaine advised her about her roommates. "Emma, just to let you know, watch out for Millicent and Pansy. They're not for trusting, mind you. As for Anna Richardson, she's just really loud and obnoxious, a bit scary if you ask me. Eva, on the other hand, well no one really knows about her. She tends to keep to herself."

"Who is that?" whispered Emma, pointing to a girl who had dark green hair.

"Oh, that's Renee Faxson, a 4th year, but very smart. Last time I talked to her she wanted to make and sell her own wands. But I heard she's kin to the forest folk. See watch her eyes. You can tell," Blaine explained.

Emma watched the girls' eyes, and one moment they were lavender, then moss green, then stormy gray.

"Weird," said Emma, "It's like they don't know what color to be."

"I heard it depends on her mood. They turn moss green when she's excited. 'Salazar'," Blaine said entering the dormitory. "I got to get some sleep, Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Emma said. She tried to find sleep, but it would not come for several hours.


End file.
